Page 101 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
I want to tell her I haven’t stopped thinking about her since the first day I saw her standing behind the counter, bossing me around with her hair pinned up and her mouth set like she had no time for nonsense.
But I don’t say anything yet.
“What about you?” she asks me, tilting her head so her eyes catch mine. “What was your childhood like?”
I sigh, glance at the sky, then at her. As beautiful as the stars are, she’s the better view. “My childhood’s probably the best part of my life. I’ve got more money and stability now than I did then, but I’d go back if I could.”
She nods slowly, like she understands that kind of ache. “I was the only child,” I add. “That’s why I envy you and your family. The day I had breakfast with you guys… it was surreal.”
“What? You liked the chaos?”
“I loved it. It was awesome. I’ve never had that before.”
She goes quiet for a beat, then says, “Where are your parents now?”
“Dead.”
She gasps, instinctively reaching for my hand. Her fingers wrap around mine—warm, grounding. She doesn’t say anything right away. Just holds on.
I smile, grateful for her silence. “They got into an accident when I was about twenty-one. I lost them both.”
“I’m so sorry, Cal.”
“Don’t be. The memories are good. They stay with me. That’s why I love spending time fixing things with your dad. He reminds me of mine. That’s how we spent time together too—fixing stuff. Even if sometimes we left it worse than it was before we touched it.”
Margot bursts out laughing, her head tilting back, that warm, unrushed kind of laughter that makes everything in me soften. “I’m loaning you my dad,” she says. “Use him for as long as you want.”
I laugh too. “How about we draft a contract? I’d love to take you up on that offer.”
She’s about to respond—something soft forming on her lips—when we hear the sharp thud of hurried footsteps crashing through the orchard.
We both shoot up.
It’s Glen. He’s always so calm and unhurried, it’s weird to see him look so… rushed.
His silhouette limps toward us, moonlight catching the white of the cast still wrapped around his leg. He’s out of breath, wild-eyed, panic bleeding through his voice before he even gets to us.
“Glen?” I call.
“I—” he pants. “I thought everyone was asleep. I just wanted to take a walk.”
Margot’s already moving toward him. “Are you okay?”
He shakes his head violently. “It’s Aunt Edie. I found her on the floor in the hallway. She passed out. I couldn’t—I couldn’t help her.”
My chest tightens. “Where exactly is she?”
“She’s just outside your room,” he says, looking straight at Margot. “Hurry, we need to get her to the hospital.”
Margot’s eyes meet mine, full of horror—and trust.
We run.
MARGOT
The doctor’s office smells like antiseptic and old magazines. I sit beside Cal, heart still racing, waiting for the worst.
But the worst doesn’t come.
